The Ribbon

Okay! This is a poem i wrote when i was stressed due to the ongoing mathematics examination... i had tied up my hair in a ribbon, which gave me this idea.. i hope you like it. Suggestions are welcome..!

The ribbon,
silky, red and gold,
was her favourite, even then.
She used it to tie her long, wavy hair,
adding other ribbons
to match her dresses.
Then one day, suddenly,
she grew too mature to care
about a little ribbon,
when she heard a strange sound,
that of her own heart--
how it became unsteady,
(or so it seemed)
when he looked at her!
Now, lost in his thoughts,
she tied and untied the ribbon
around her fingers,
unconsciously,
gazing at something hidden behind the winds...

That day, when they met under the tree,
the ribbon held her curls loosely.
Heuntied it softly, saying
he liked her hair loose better,
and tied it, a flower,
on her ring finger.
It became her way too,
whether it matched her dresses, or not.

The ribbon is still there,
threads loosening at the ends,
holding his letters to her together;
the letters,
from promising his eternal love,
to complaining about the weather,
and finally stating that it was all over;
not a dream, bot a reality
they had revelled in for too long...

The ribbon is old,
but it still has the power
to move her to tears,
to make her try hard
to smother her sobs
in the orders of her mother
in the porch, to the servants,
to make all things perfect

for her wedding.

What a regular girl faces...

"Jai Shri Krishna," came the chants from one loudspeaker.
It was Janamashtami, the day we Hindus celebrate as the birthday of Lord Krishna. I was fasting to celebrate this day in a traditional way, having prepared already the sweets which were to be offered to Kanha at midnight. Since a fast is never really complete without a visit to a temple, my dad had decided to take me and my brother to Baba Dham temple in my hometown itself. So, here i was, outside the temple, my feet bare on the cool mud, struggling to stand still in the milling crowd that was determined to give me not even a square foot of ground to stand upon. "Radhe Radhe....," people were greeting each other. And i was still wondering how, if possible at all, i was ever going to get in....
Gathering my courage, i ventured inside, my dad continously looking back to assure my safety. I felt no need to watch where i had to go -- the crowd took me with it on its own accord, like a tide of devotion of Krishna's love. The idol of Shri Krishna was so majestically decorated that I could not help being awed at His beauty. The whole experience was delightful!
Having offered my prayers to the Lord, it was now a challenge for me and my brother to come out of the temple gate without getting our feet trampled on. This was where the ugly part crept in. There were so many guys at the place, which, of course, is not unusual. But the deliberate torture they inflict on the female species of our race is definitely reckless! I mean, they were practically falling on me from all directions  -- yes, i know it was crowded there, but one could actually see many of them smirking shamelessly! -- and I felt disgusted! My dad was a few steps ahead of me, and frankly, telling him of my discomfort specifically-which he obviously did sense- would have led to a public fight. And i know that any girl would hate that.
But I could not help thinking of this peculiar behaviour of some males. And I wondered what Lord Krishna must feel when he sees these low mentality people harrass innocent girls in such a way. I suddenly shudder at the thought of what any normal girl is prone to, at any given day.
I do not even know if there is an alternative or a possible solution to this deep, yet lurking problem. All i can do is to hope not to face any form of sexual harrassment ever. I want to take pride in my femininity, and not be ashamed of it, or afraid of it being a burden on my soul...